


Darkshines

by thekeyholder



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dark, Drabble, M/M, oops xD, this turned out more Hannibalesque than expected
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 01:27:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7199852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thekeyholder/pseuds/thekeyholder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Passing by you light up my darkest skies/ You take only seconds to draw me in./ So be mine, and your innocence I will consume."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Darkshines

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IceStorm_Pingu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IceStorm_Pingu/gifts).



> Hi, everyone! I've had the idea whirling in my mind for some weeks, but for some reason I only had this _need_ to write it today (3 days before a huge exam... coincidence? I think not. xD).
> 
> Title taken from the [eponymous Muse song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTn288M5Mak). Only realised in the middle of writing it how well its darkness fits the story. Enjoy! :)

Jim found himself in a dark alley. He had no idea how he got there, but he didn’t have much time to think about it: the painful clenching of his stomach signalled the imminence of something dangerous. Indeed, a few seconds later, there was the sound of approaching footsteps, heavy in the cold and silent air. Then suddenly, a familiar face was grinning at him.

 

“Oswald?” Jim asked timidly.

 

The grin stretched impossibly wider. Jim could feel his hammering pulse at the back of his head, and thought he’d faint as black dots appeared at the edge of his vision. For some reason, he knew this image, this terrible face; nevertheless, his mind was screaming _this is wrong, this is suspicious, something is not right here_.

 

“Hello, Jim,” the man beamed, and Jim told himself he was paranoid, because this was the voice of his Oswald.

 

He was the same pompous and elegant devil. His suit was impeccable and expensive, his skin pale and smooth as alabaster, his demeanor clouded in his characteristic playfulness and sassiness. Even if the big picture seemed all right, the illusion started to crumble away when you looked more closely. Jim didn’t recognise the blackness under Oswald eyes, the wickedness in their depthless green, or the cruel streak in the upward curve of his shapely mouth.

 

Without warning, Jim was pushed against a wall, his head painfully thudding against it and his breath leaving his lungs. He wanted to fight back, but he couldn’t bring himself to punch Oswald. His hesitation only managed to augment his confusion. He wanted to stop Oswald, he wanted to bruise his perfect skin, but then he felt Oswald kissing his neck, and Jim forgot about everything.

 

He wanted to look at Oswald’s face, because he knew he’d find explanations there, but Jim couldn’t move and he couldn’t see Oswald from his position. Everything was surreal, so he closed his eyes and gave in to the sensation. Oswald’s kisses were scorching, leaving Jim panting for air. Then Oswald bit his neck, and Jim barely had time to moan, when Oswald gripped his erection, and whispered hotly in his ear:

 

“What would people say if they knew that the uncorrupted Detective James Gordon is hot for Gotham’s crime lord? Huh, Jim? What would they say that Oswald Cobblepot is about to fuck your brains out?”

 

Jim was spiralling downwards in a fathomless tunnel of dark and forbidden pleasure as Oswald continued to rub him through his trousers. There was an alarmed voice at the back of his head _‘Oswald? Crime lord?’_ , but it made sense right then and there, and he was too busy chasing his moment of bliss. Jim wanted to find Oswald’s lips, and kiss him senseless, but the man was like smoke, unreachable. Every time Jim tried to grab Oswald’s arms, his fingers touched thin air. Yet the pressure on his pulsing dick was unrelenting, and he knew he wouldn’t resist for long.

 

“O-Oswald,” he whimpered, and then Jim felt something cold against his throat.

 

It felt like Oswald was behind him and in front of him at the same time; his fingers were still wrapped around Jim’s erection, yet he was also holding a blade against Jim’s throat and whispering in his left ear. The coldness of the knife did nothing to ease the tightness in Jim’s trousers. On the contrary.

 

“Jim, Jim, Jim… you’re not so innocent anymore, are you, my old friend?”

 

With that Oswald slashed his throat, and pleasure travelled with the speed of light through Jim’s body. He was coming so hard, like he had never before, while Oswald’s laughter echoed in the alley as Jim’s blood sprayed all over the ground.

 

Jim woke up with a start, gasping for air and willing his heart to slow down its erratic rhythm.

 

_It was just a dream, just a dream…_

 

“Nightmare?” a sleepy voice asked from behind.

 

“Yes,” Jim croaked, and was glad that the darkness hid his flinch.

 

He reached for the glass of water on his nightstand.

 

_Nightmare, it was a nightmare, not just a simple dream._

 

Jim wiped his sweaty forehead. There was a hand on his back, rubbing it lazily, and Jim exhaled with relief. He lay back down, and Oswald pressed in closely against his back, kissing Jim’s nape, and racking his fingers through Jim’s blond locks soothingly. Jim turned around, and kissed his partner deeply, trying to banish the strange feelings the dream had roused in him.

 

“Love you,” Oswald murmured quietly, and the next second he was fast asleep.

 

“Love you too,” Jim whispered in the darkness, and wondered why his stupid mind terrorised him with such nasty images, when his Oswald was the sweetest human who couldn’t hurt a fly. Jim shut his eyes, and scooted closer to Oswald, the haunting images exiled to a dark recess of his mind for that night.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at butterfliesandresistance.tumblr.com


End file.
